


Kitten

by dustandroses



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: 16 Year Old Xander, Biting, Community: fall_for_sx, Community: tamingthemuse, Episode Related: Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered, F/M, First Time, Holiday Fic: Valentines Day, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:05:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander falls into Spike's hands when Drusilla decides that she needs to bring her Kitten home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from the Live Journal community Tamingthemuse prompts #382: Antithesis, and #383: Opportunity Whispers  
>  **Notes:** Thanks to BuffyGuide.com for the catch on Diana, goddess of the hunt, who was definitely not a goddess of love, despite Amy's claim in the episode _Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered_. I guess that's what Xander gets for blackmailing an amateur witch to cast his love spell for him.

 

When Spike first saw the kitten, he had bite marks on both sides of his throat, as well as across his bare chest. His white under-shirt was ripped down the front, and purpled, sucking bites surrounded one nipple. Dru swung him around as she danced across the floor, his feet seldom touching the ground despite the fact that he was several inches taller than she was. He hung in her arms, his eyes open, but Spike got the idea that he was barely conscious of what was happening around him. 

Angelus sprawled at the head of Spike’s table, laughing as he encouraged Dru in her dance, but more than once, he reminded her firmly that she was not allowed to kill the kitten. Spike was curious about that, but not curious enough to put off his meal. He was certain he’d find out what that was about sooner or later, he was in no hurry. He was sick and tired of Angelus’ games already; the last thing Spike wanted to do was encourage him.

The larder was a sloppy mess. One of the drawbacks of keeping a court was that if he didn’t pay close enough attention, the minions grew lax in their duties. He sent someone after Saul, the vamp he’d left in charge of the larder, and picked thru what was left until he found someone with a strong, steady heartbeat. After he gave Saul a piece of his mind, he ordered the idiot to grab a few minions to help him take out the empties and clean up the area before the factory was overrun with flies. He hated flies. 

As soon as Spike came back to the main room, Dru left her play toy sitting across the table from Miss Edith, and climbed into Spike’s wheelchair, legs draped over the side, to tell him about their outing.

“We had a splendid time, Spike; I wish you could have joined us. We went to that nasty Slayer’s house for a visit, but she wasn’t home. We found the kitten there instead. He’d cast a sneaky little spell on _everyone_ , and they were all fighting over him with axes and knives; it was quite exciting. But I didn’t want to share him, so I took him away from them all.”

“Everyone was fighting over him?” 

Spike gave him a second look. He sat in a chair, his head resting on his arms, not even pretending to drink the tea Dru had poured for him. His eyes were closed, bruised and sunken in his pale face, but from the rapid beating of his heart, Spike was sure the kitten was awake. Most likely, he’d had the fight drained right out of him. Most humans were much more pliable once a good portion of their blood supply left their bodies. He looked faintly familiar, and Spike wondered if he'd chanced upon the kitten before. If he had, though, the boy would surely be dead, so he dismissed the thought and turned back to his Dark Pearl.

“He doesn’t look all that special from here, pet.”

“It was the spell,” Angelus said. He grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair, and pulled him upright by it. 

The boy’s eyes opened, but he stared straight ahead, as if he wasn’t aware of what was happening around him. He listed heavily to one side, as if he’d fall off the chair if it didn’t have heavy arms for him to lean on. 

“He had every girl from the high school, and a number of the teachers, chasing after him. I’m not sure they all wanted to keep him, though. Several of them wanted him dead.” Angelus chortled, his amusement clear. 

“I wonder who he got to cast the spell. Jenny was nowhere to be seen, so it could have been her.” He laughed, his lip turning up in a sneer. “That would piss old Rupert off to no end.”

“So you know him from the Slayer’s entourage? Are you sure he didn’t cast the spell himself? I have no interest in having a warlock in the factory…”

Angelus barked a loud laugh, “Xander Harris a warlock? Not likely. That idiot couldn’t float a feather, let alone cast a complicated love spell like this one. No, he had nothing to do with the casting of it. I’m sure he was merely the pathetic loser who wished to be loved.”

Drusilla tisked as she climbed out of Spike’s lap, shaking her finger at the boy. “The mouth of hell loves to hear your wishes, my kitten, but he’ll laugh as he watches them twist you up tight, until you’re all topsy-turvy. If it weren’t for us, that wish would have ripped you limb from limb. I like you better like this - with your heart singing to me, tripping along fast and fluttery.”

She swayed from side to side to the rhythm of his heartbeat, humming a tune Spike recognized from a century of repetition. Drusilla’d once told him her mother used to sing it to her when she was young. 

“If wishes were horses,  
Beggars would ride.  
If turnips were bayonets,  
I’d wear one by my side.”

She danced to the boy’s side, twirling madly, until she landed beside him. She touched his cheek with one delicate hand. 

“He had me in a tizzy, he did. My ifs and ans were all jumbled about, clattering like pots and pans, and the tinker whispered dark secrets in my ear. But I can hear the kitten clearly now the spell is broken.” 

She ran her fingers though his dark hair, and he shuddered, although he didn’t move away from her caress. “He’s still a lovely little kitten. I think I’ll keep him.”

“You can have him for a day or two, Dru. But after that, he goes back to the Slayer.” Angelus grinned evilly. “A piece at a time.” 

Spike rolled his eyes. It hadn’t taken long for Angelus to go right back to his ridiculous games, playing with the heads of his food, as if that made him something big and important. All it did was show what a coward he was – too afraid to face his opponents until he’d played with their minds enough that they couldn’t possibly be at the top of their game. Give Spike a stake or a straight razor, and an opponent with their mind on the fight, any day. 

Of course he’d never tell Angelus that, he had a bad habit of taking out his ire on those who were just pointing out the truth, and Spike was in no condition to defend himself. If he got a chance to sabotage Angelus’ plans, Spike would take it, as long as it wouldn’t put himself or Drusilla at risk, but direct confrontation was out for now. 

If Spike weren’t in this damned wheelchair, things would be different - he’d be able to maintain control of his court, and could toss Angelus out for his misbehavior. He deserved it, for the way he treated Spike in his own home. But although Spike was doing better than he let on, he was still reliant on the wheelchair for now, which meant he was trapped in a situation that was, at best, intolerable. 

The thrill of having Angelus back had worn off in barely ten minutes; it had taken no time to remember why Spike hated the smug bastard. The worst part was the way Drusilla fawned over him, so pleased to have her Daddy back that she’d forgotten the anger she felt when he deserted them. She was happy to spend time with Spike, as long as Daddy was busy, but otherwise, it was as if the last hundred years of their life together were nothing but a passing fancy, come and gone in a moment’s time. 

Kitten managed to push himself upright in his chair, although he still leant heavily against one arm as he slowly took in the room, and the other inhabitants. His heartbeat sped, followed by rapid, gasping breaths. It was obvious he knew exactly how much danger he was facing. He swallowed and winced, reaching up to touch one side of his neck, and then the other. He was definitely looking a bit on the rough side. Spike wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t more blood caking his clothing and skin than there was currently in his body.

Drusilla leaned over him and put her hand over his heart. “Slow down, little kitten, your heart will beat right out of your chest, and go flying up to visit the stars! You’ll need your heart down here, sooner than you think.”

Kitten laughed with what sounded like a complete lack of humor. “So much for Diana, goddess of love,” he croaked.

“Who?” Spike raised one eyebrow. Was this one trying to invoke a goddess in a vampire’s lair? 

“You know,” Kitten looked from one to the other, but when none of them responded, he started again, “’Diana, goddess of love and the hunt. I pray to thee.’ I don’t remember the rest.”

Dru slapped her hand over the kitten’s mouth. “Oh, no, no, no… Kittens are not allowed to speak to the gods, not allowed at all!”

Kitten’s mouth was covered, but he tried speaking, in any event. “Mie mot?”

Spike couldn’t help but smile at the kitten’s wide eyes. “Well for one thing, who ever told you Diana was the goddess of love?”

Dru pulled her hands away with a giggle, and the kitten took the opportunity to ask, “She’s not?”

“Oh, no, Kitten. She’s the huntress with her fawn, the moon goddess dancing with the stars, returning to her sacred oaks when her brother Apollo brightens the day.” 

“The moon.” Kitten had a sour frown on his face. 

“She has absolutely nothing to do with romantic love, mate, she’s a virgin goddess, chaste, and pure. Besides, I hear she wasn’t fond of men,” Spike wiggled his eyebrows, “if you get my meaning.”

Angelus burst out laughing. “Only you, Harris! Only you could bungle a love spell this badly.”

“Says the guy who traded his soul for a happy.”

The kitten’s eyes grew wide as the magnitude of his mistake hit him, but it was too late for the hands he slapped over his mouth to do him any good. Spike winced, this was going to hurt. He liked this one. He had a smart mouth, but then so did Spike. 

Angelus was on his feet in a second, and his backhand knocked the kitten over, heavy wooden chair and all. If he hadn’t broken the kitten’s jaw with that one, Spike would be surprised.

Dru started dancing around Angelus, reminding him that he’d promised her time with her kitten before he chopped him up for Slayer trinkets. From the outside, it was easy to see how she manipulated and cajoled to get her way, but from inside Dru’s whirlwind, it was never that clear. And her mojo – she couldn’t play those games on Spike anymore, but he was pretty sure she was working more than just her wiles on Angelus right now. 

The kitten managed to sit up, his jaw red and bruised. It would look worse tomorrow, and it looked bloody awful now. Spike watched as he scrambled shakily to his feet, but try as he might, he didn’t have the strength to right the heavy chair. Finally, he sat down in the next chair over, and left that one where it lay.

Spike rolled over to the table and got his attention. “Word to the wise, mate?” 

Kitten blinked at him as if he was having trouble focusing. Spike didn’t blame him, he knew how hard the bastard could hit. “Take it from one who’s been there; you’ll survive longer if you keep that bleedin’ gob hole shut. It ain’t easy, but you’ll be glad you did when you’re still alive in the morning.”

From the look on the kitten’s face, he wasn’t sure if surviving until morning was a bonus or a penalty, but it looked like he understood the advice, and that was a start. Not like Spike cared one whit for any human in the long run, but this one had made him laugh, so it might be fun having him around for a few days.

Dru was sitting in Angelus’ lap now, and he had one hand buried beneath her skirt, the other kneading her breast as he murmured in her ear. Spike couldn’t bear it one minute more, so he rolled himself into the kitchen without a word to either, turning his back on Angelus’ pointed insinuations of Spike’s inability to prove himself a man. 

Angelus would be surprised to see how much mobility Spike actually had, but he knew Angelus. If Spike let on how close he was to recovered, he’d find other ways to make his life intolerable, so Spike hid his accomplishments, until the right moment came along, and he could rid himself of the bastard once and for all.

He couldn’t stake Angelus, Dru would never speak to him again if he did. Besides, he owed Angelus allegiance for teaching Spike when Drusilla was not well enough to do so. But there had to be another way to take him down a few pegs, and hopefully drive him off for good. If he could find a way to get the Slayer to stake him, well, that would be perfect, but Angelus couldn’t stop bragging about how the Slayer would never dust him. 

All Angelus had to do was say her name the way that damned, pitiful ‘soul’ would say it – all sad, puppy dog eyes and heartfelt sincerity - and she’d crumple before him and turn back into a teenage girl in love. If only she knew the way Angelus mocked her behind her back. The only thing worse than a teenager in love was a teenager scorned. 

He watched from the kitchen doorway as Angelus terrified the kitten, leaning over him threateningly, laying out the torture and rape he had planned. The kitten cowered against the back of the chair, unconsciously offering Angelus exactly what he loved the most. If he’d been begging for his life, Angelus would have had another ‘happy’ right there in the main room, with half a dozen minions all drooling as they watched. Angelus loved an audience.

“I can’t wait to rip into that virgin body of yours,” he told the kitten, leaning in from behind him, and breathing in his ear. The kitten shuddered, cringing away from the body that that towered over him. 

“Stay away from me, blood breath.”

The problem was it was obvious that the kitten was frightened silly by Angelus’ theatrics, his voice shaky and weak. Too bad he didn’t have the time to teach the boy how to ignore Angelus’ attentions. That would put the bastard all out of sorts, and would be loads of fun to watch. Unfortunately, that took years of training, and a high tolerance for pain. Well, he could at least warn the boy against behaviors such as these, they only fed Angelus’ ego, and spurred him on to greater heights of sadistic behavior. 

Finally, Angelus tossed the kitten over one shoulder, and he and Dru disappeared in the direction of Angelus’ room. Dru hadn’t slept with Spike once since her Daddy arrived. He missed having her in his bed. And he missed the sex. With the reemergence of feeling in his legs, his libido had flourished. For months he’d had Drusilla to himself with not one hard-on to his name, and now that he could do more than use his hand and his mouth to satisfy her, Drusilla was no longer available to him. Damned Angelus.

None of this was right. It was as if Angelus had come back _wrong_ somehow. He’d always been a jealous lover, and if he had the opportunity to play with Spike’s head, he always did so. Spike had learned early on not to allow Angelus the knowledge of what hurt him the most, what gave him the greatest pleasure, what drove him to the highest highs. As soon as Angelus knew, he found a way to destroy whatever Spike loved. 

He was worse now, though. What had started as a jealous desire to claim back his family, had grown and multiplied until he’d rather destroy them than to allow them any pleasure that was not centered on Angelus.

It’s too bad that Spike still hadn’t figured out how to stop wearing his heart on his sleeve. The last several weeks had been a revelation to him, though. He’d found reserves inside himself that he had no idea existed. And when he was finally able, he’d take Dru and be gone. Once he was back to full strength again, Angelus and this bloody Hellmouth would never see either of them again. 

He rolled himself back to the table, and picked up his book. It looked like it was going to be a boring night, since Dru was otherwise engaged. He might as well get comfortable, and do some reading, or maybe see what was on the telly.

* * *

It hadn’t been even an hour since Angelus had disappeared into his bedroom with Dru, but there he was, dropping a dirty bundle of blood and barely beating heart on Spike’s floor. Spike wasn’t at all happy. He dropped the remote to the bed.

“Here now! I’ll not clean up after you! Take out your own trash.”

Angelus sprawled casually over the end of Spike’s bed, as if he owned it. “Oh, this is no trash, William. That pitiful lump of humanity is Harris, my future gift to the Slayer. I’ve decided to keep him for a while, and send Buffy pictures of him, to let her know he’s still alive, and how well we’re taking care of him for her. What do you think?” 

What Spike thought was that Drusilla had been playing with Angelus’ head. She’d gotten very good at getting what she wanted from Spike about three decades ago. Several times they’d come close to losing their heads over what Spike later realized were rather large, and unlikely, gaps in his common sense. He’d finally cottoned on to the fact that she was bending his will with her magic. He’d gone to a warlock he’d had good luck with in the past, and had him magic up a tattoo on the back of his right ankle. 

It had stung like hell going on, but it had been well worth the effort. Now, no matter how subtle the mojo, Spike knew when he was getting whammied, no matter who was working the spell. And the tat on the other ankle protected him from the effects of all but the most powerful spells. He’d never deny his dark princess anything – as long as it wouldn’t hurt her – so if she had to mojo him to get what she wanted, there was a very legitimate reason for his not letting her have it. 

So Dru was already resorting to mojo on her precious Daddy, eh? He’d only been back three weeks, and the honeymoon was already over. What a shame. There was no way in hell he was letting on that Dru was playing with Angelus’ mind. If he had to be convinced to do it, that meant it wasn’t really what he wanted to do, and knowing that the great Angelus was getting his arse whammied made Spike’s day. No, it made Spike’s whole week. 

Angelus stretched happily on Spike’s bed. “You have a better bed than I do. That doesn’t seem right, Spike. I’m the sire, after all.”

Spike growled. “This is still my home, Angelus, and as long as I’m here, I’ll sleep wherever I like. You’d best keep your mitts off my bed.”

“Okay, okay. I get the point.” He smirked at Spike. “As long as Dru prefers my mitts over yours, it guess it doesn’t matter where we spend the day.”

That was a low blow. He was about to retort angrily, which would have led to nothing but trouble, but the kitten chose that moment to mewl piteously from the floor. 

Angelus sat up and sighed. “See, this is the problem. The whole poor pitiful me routine is distracting Dru from her duties to her sire. I told her she could keep him for a few weeks, if she promised to only play with him when she wasn’t supposed to be concentrating on _me_ , but she keeps losing focus. I love her, but Jesus, she is so high strung sometimes, you know?”

He got up off the bed, and clapped Spike on the shoulder like they were old buddies, which, although William might have wished for something like that in his day, Spike knew better. The only time Angelus’d feign camaraderie with Spike was when he wanted something. 

“So here’s the deal, Spike. I’m leaving Harris with you for a couple of weeks. Drusilla will surely want to play with him from time to time, but otherwise he’s all yours.”

Spike’s anger burst inside him, but he held it back with every bit of the iron will he’d learned from a century of dealing with an insane sire. “What the hell am I supposed to do with him?”

“Not like you have anything else to do! I’m sure you’ll get along fine. Just don’t kill him.” The door slammed behind Angelus, and Spike stared at his new guest, wondering what the hell to do with a human if he couldn’t kill him.

* * *

“You’re looking remarkably fit, tonight, Harris.”

Xander looked up from his tea cup, eyes wide as saucers as he studied Angelus, who lounged in the doorway, one shoulder against the jamb. He was wearing his usual apparel, black silk shirt, black leather pants, black boots, but the black leather coat gave Spike the idea he was dressed to go out. 

Drusilla jumped up to hug her Daddy, clinging to his shoulders as he bussed her soundly. “Good evening, Dru. How’s Daddy’s favorite little girl?”

She beamed at him brightly. “I’m having tea with Miss Edith and the kitten, although Spike insists we give the kitten nothing but orange juice.” Her nose wrinkled up in disgust at the thought. “Kittens are supposed to drink milk,” she pouted.

“Orange juice, Spike?” Angelus sat down across the table from Spike, who looked over his paper at Angelus, before folding it, and setting it down. 

“You said not to kill him. I assumed that meant you didn’t want him dead, full stop. So if Dru insists on feeding from him, he’s got to stay healthy somehow.”

“You’re feeding him, too?” Angelus didn’t sound happy, and Spike smirked internally, but kept cool on the outside.

“He’ll be dead if he starves, same as if Dru drains him dry.” He dismissed Angelus, and went back to his cuppa. “If you want me to hand him back over to you, I’ll be glad to. Or I’m sure Drusilla would be happy to take him off your hands, now wouldn’t you, pet?”

His smile was sincere. No matter how much Drusilla broke his heart, his love for her never changed. She smiled back at him, and blew him a kiss.

“I’d serve him nothing but biscuits and treacle, or perhaps the still-beating heart of a bird.”

“You might want to save _that_ treat for your Daddy, pet.” He heard Angelus’ snort, but didn’t acknowledge it. “Growing boys need the kind of food your _mother_ always made. I know how you loved your mother’s cooking, Dru.”

“Oh, Momma,” Dru sighed heavily. “How I miss her. She was an excellent cook, she’d cook marvelous meals for the kitten.”

Hah. That ought to fry Angelus’ bacon. He hated it when Dru grew all melancholy and weepy over the family Angelus had murdered. Angelus’ frown showed his annoyance. Spike felt a thrill in his gut – the charge he always got when he knowingly stirred the hornet’s nest. Angelus would be unhappy with Spike all night long, now. 

Harris’ uncertain eyes flickered between the three of them, his heart still rabbit-fast, despite the two meals Spike had supplied him since Angelus had dropped him on the floor of Spike’s room. The minions knew better than to touch the boy, but with three Aurelius in the factory, his life was constantly at risk. The Aurelius all had a taste for danger. It was in their blood.

Last night after Angelus left, Spike had stared at the lump on the floor for some time before he came to a few conclusions. He sent one minion out for groceries and another out for clothes, since the kitten’s were obviously ruined. A third carried the boy into Spike’s bathroom, and set him up in a bath. By the time he was mostly presentable, and the worst of his wounds patched up, there were clean clothes in the bathroom, and food in Spike’s private refrigerator, not to mention the huge bag from the Doublemeat Palace on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

Harris was wobbly when he came out, but he was clean, and dressed in soft sweats that wouldn’t hurt his wounds too badly. He hadn’t been very trusting, but then Spike wasn’t surprised at that. He was willing to admit he _was_ exhibiting unusual behavior for a vampire. He’d offered a brief explanation of his intentions to Harris, who, surprisingly, approved heartily. He didn’t think he’d survive the week, and Spike had to admit, his chances weren’t great. But Spike promised him he had a better chance of surviving if he agreed to Spike’s plan, than if he didn’t. Besides, as Harris put it, if he was going to die anyway, the least he could do was annoy ‘Dead Boy’ as much as possible before he croaked.

Dead Boy. Spike liked that. He’d stolen a French fry and they’d gone over the rules Harris would have to stick to. There was only so much that Angelus would allow before he retaliated, and, knowing Angelus, his anger would come down hardest on the weakest member of the group, so there were lines that he was not allowed to cross, if he wanted to live. He’d agreed to try to curb his tongue, although it was obvious that was not something at which he usually excelled. Spike was certain that Angelus would test Harris’ restraint before the night was over. 

Dru sank to the floor, holding Miss Edith close as tears slipped down her beautiful face. Spike’s heart was torn. He hated putting Drusilla in that kind of mood, but it would be best for her in the long run if her Daddy’s attentions were focused elsewhere. 

Angelus growled at Spike for reminding Dru of her lost childhood, but when he circled around the end of the table, he came up behind Harris, not Spike. Angelus was taking Spike’s bait. He fought back his black laughter, and casually picked up his paper. He pretended to read, although his focus was still on Angelus. Harris squirmed around in his seat as best he could, in order to watch him. It was a wise move; no one wanted Angelus at their back.

“Well, get up, then, Harris. Let’s see your new clothes.” He jerked the kitten to his feet with a firm grip on his upper arm, not letting go until he’d taken three or four steps away from the table. Once Angelus had him where he wanted, he started stalking around him, slowly examining Harris’ apparel. 

Spike had gone to one of his most trustworthy minions last night, and Lucius had chosen his helpers wisely. The girl who went clothes hunting was less than a year turned, and obviously still remembered enough about human clothes to make him look good. Spike approved of her choices, pleased that she had taken his advice and gone to a used clothing store. 

Harris was wearing nothing but well-worn blue jeans, and a plain green t-shirt. Nothing that really stood out, but unlike the clothes he’d had on yesterday, these actually fit. Spike had tossed away the kitten’s bloody boots, and had hidden the new ones the minion had brought. He thought that bare feet would be more appealing, and offer a sense of vulnerability that a pair of battered Doc Martens would not.

Putting the kitten in clothes that truly fit his body brought out the boy’s natural good looks. He was long legged and gangly, yet, but his coltish frame was starting to fill in, indicating that he’d grow into his height as he aged. He had a nicely rounded ass, just perfect for holding onto, and Angelus loved a pert, round ass. The big, frightened eyes were a nice touch, and to think they came free with the package! Kitten was a delicious mouthful, and a perfect pick for Angelus – just the kind he’d always liked. 

“Well, look at what Spike found, Drusilla!” Angelus said, with genuine appreciation. 

It got Dru’s attention. Her head popped up above the level of the table, and she stared at Angelus with hopeful eyes. She was looking to him for comfort, and Spike’s heart twisted at the thought. She’d get nothing of the sort from her Daddy, but still she went to him, as if this time might be different than the last fifty or sixty.

“The kitten has a nice body, once you take away the baggy pants and ugly shirts he hides under. I’m impressed, Harris. Put you in well-fitting clothes, and the difference is as obvious as night and day.” 

The boy swallowed heavily when Angelus started running his hands over his body - across his shoulders, down his back, up his arms - but he didn’t say a word, just stared at Spike with panicked eyes. 

Dru watched eagerly, clapping her doll’s hands together. “Look, Miss Edith! You were right! Daddy and the kitten are getting along splendidly.”

Harris gasped when Angelus squeezed his hand over the nipple that had been badly bitten. “Watch it, Dead Boy, you’re getting perilously close to a no fondling zone.”

Spike barely held back his laugh. Harris would only keep quiet to a point, obviously. Spike didn’t mind. He’d gotten Angelus’ attention, and that was what Spike had wanted.

Angelus took a quick step up behind Harris, his body pressing into the kitten’s back. His hand slid around to Harris’ crotch, and he caressed Harris’ cock before squeezing tightly. The boy squeaked, frozen in shock that Angelus would touch another male like that, not to mention the strength of his grip. Harris had a thing or two learn about vampires, now didn’t he? 

“I can touch you any place I want, Harris. You belong to me, and I intend to fuck you tonight to prove it. Just your virgin ass, my cock, and your blood to slick the way. Blood makes a bad lubricant, but you’re sure to bleed _a lot_ , so we’ll get by. Trust me, _Butt Boy_ , this is going to hurt you a hell of a lot more than it will me.”

Spike kept his eyes on his paper, ignoring the scene, but the kitten’s quick gasping breaths gave away his panic. 

Angelus spun away, leaving Harris to collapse back into his chair. 

He called back over his shoulder as he left. “Come along, Dru, it’s time for us to do some hunting. And if you’re a good girl, you can help me deflower Harris tonight. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

She popped to her feet, her eyes bright. “Oh, yes, Daddy!” Turning to her chair, she sat her doll down, arranging her dress carefully. “I’m sorry, Miss Edith, you’ll have to stay here.” She ran for the door. “Wait for me, Daddy!” Spike watched her go. So much for distracting Angelus from Dru with the new boy. He’d have to come up with another way to keep his attentions away from Drusilla.

The kitten waited until she was out the door before clutching his cock through his jeans and cringing. “Oh, man. That really hurt.”

Spike snorted. “That will be nothing compared to what’s going to happen later tonight.”

“And thank you so much for that, Bleach Boy! I was just fine in my baggy clothes, but you had to go and stick me in these things, and now Angel wants to rape me! And since when was Angel bisexual, anyway?”

Spike laughed. “Since he was turned, I’d wager. He certainly knew what went where when he buggered me silly.”

Spike had to laugh at the look on Harris’ face. 

“He raped you?”

“No, I wouldn’t call it rape. We’re vampires, remember. We do whatever we want, to whomever we want. You need to stop thinking in such strict terms, if you want to understand vamps, Kitten. With Angelus, for instance, it’s not so much about sex as it is about domination and control. 

“He’s always been that way. Control was what mattered most to him. Probably came from being sired by Darla. That bitch led him around by the short and curlies. She had all the control, so if he wanted any, he had to get it from those lower down on the totem pole than him. And that meant me and Dru.”

“Great. So he’s going to rape me so he can work out his sire issues?”

“From what you’ve said, you never gave him any sort of respect, so I reckon he’ll feel the need to put you in your place, whatever way he can. Besides, if the Slayer learned you‘ve been raped, that would have a profound effect on her. It would make her easier to take down, because she’d be blinded by her anger for you.”

“You could prevent that, you know.”

“We’ve talked about this already, _Kitten_. If I let you go, Angelus will go after the one thing that means most to me, and I won’t have Drusilla harmed over a mere human’s suffering. No, if that’s the alternative, you’ll just have to die. Drusilla will not suffer for you.”

“So that’s the plan? I bend over for a prick with a prick? You know I’m going to fight.”

“He wouldn’t expect anything else. But remember, the less you fight, the less he’s going to enjoy it.”

He slouched back into his chair, his face pale as he obviously reviewed his options. “I should have staked that lying bastard the minute he offered you my neck.”

“What?” 

Spike’s memory flashed on the day he crashed the Slayer’s party at the high school. Angelus in his true face, offering up a tasty treat as a decoy, as if Spike couldn’t tell the soul from the demon with his bloody eyes closed. No wonder the kitten looked familiar; Angelus had offered this child to him months ago. Suddenly, a plan blossomed full blown in Spike’s head - the perfect way to drive Angelus to distraction, and allow the Slayer a chance to defeat him. 

“Don’t worry, Kitten. I have an idea. It’s not perfect, and it means you’ll have to make a sacrifice, but it might help you avoid a rape. And it will definitely piss off Angelus.”

Harris perked up slightly. “Yeah? I’m for anything that pisses off Dead Boy.”

“Come on, then. Let’s take this back to my room.”

* * *

Xander was in bed with Spike. 

Xander was in bed with a _naked_ Spike. 

He was having trouble getting past that sentence. 

He was in bed with Spike. 

Naked. 

Not only was Spike naked, but so was Xander. 

In the back of his mind, written in large red letters in all capitals, flashing on and off like a neon sign was the word SUCKER!!! with three exclamation points. SUCKER, SUCKER, SUCKER!!! It was kind of hypnotic, and there’s an idea. What if Spike had hypnotized him? What if Spike was laughing his ass off right now? The words in Spike’s head would not be pretty: dupe, loser, deluded fool, shill. Oh, yeah. He was all of those.

The only thing that kept Xander from jumping out of the bed right now was the knowledge that if Spike wanted to have sex with him, all he had to do would be overpower him, because even in a wheelchair, the vamp was strong. And if he got away from Spike, there were vamps all over the place who would happily stop Xander from getting away. What was he thinking? They’d be quite happy to hold Xander down while Spike raped him. The odd thing was Spike didn’t want to rape him. Spike was going out of his way to _not_ rape him, because he didn’t rape. 

As Spike put it: “I’ve never had a problem getting women or men in my bed.” 

He said it with the sexiest smile, one that lit up more neon signs that said things like: hot, sexy, desire, want, want, want. _Want now._ Because although he’d been hiding this most of his life; Xander didn’t have a problem with guys. He liked to watch them, he liked to wonder what it would be like to touch them, and have them touch him, in places that were happy to meet them half-way, like the cock that went _sproing_ as soon as Spike started stripping. 

Not that he had any problems with girls, either. He was totally in awe of the fact that Cordelia wanted to kiss him, and touch him, even if she did choose insane places to do the touching, like the closets at school. Or she _had_ wanted to, anyway. She didn’t want him at all, anymore. Which really sucked, ‘cause he had even managed to make it to second base, and Cordelia had boobies that were ripe and firm, and just the right size for a guy’s hand. Although he’d never gotten under her bra, he’d managed to get under her sweater and touch her bare skin, and he’d jerked off to that scene so many times that he’d worn the edges off his memory.

But Spike had the guy side covered. His cock was as hard as Xander’s was, and that was a real accomplishment, because all Spike had to look at was Xander. He wanted to touch Spike, and rub up against him, see what he tasted like, and he wanted it all, right now. The problem was that he was probably just being sucked in, and after they had sex, Spike was going to laugh at him and say, ‘never mind, Angelus is going to rape you anyway, I just wanted to get there first!’ 

That Spike, he was a laugh a minute.

He hoped that wasn’t the case. He wanted to believe that Spike was right, that the fact that Angel had offered Spike his neck meant that Spike had the right to accept Xander as a gift from his Sire, and once he belonged to Spike, Spike had the right to choose who got to touch him and who didn’t. Besides, Angelus kept ranting about Xander’s virgin ass, and if it wasn’t all virginal, then maybe he wouldn’t want it anyway. It all made so much sense, except for the part where he didn’t understand why Spike would care if Xander got raped or not. Why did he want to stop Angelus? What did it matter to Spike? 

He obviously said that last part out loud, because Spike sighed, and sat up.

“Look mate, I told you this already. I don’t especially care if you get raped or not. All I know is that my girl is caught up in her Daddy right now, and I want to make sure that when the Slayer and her crew take him down, they don’t take my Dru down with him. So if I treat you right, you’ll tell your Slayer to use one of those tranquilizing darts on my Dru instead of staking her, and I’ll take her far away from here, and never bother any of you again. Is any of this sinking in here?”

“Well,” Xander played with the hem of the sheet, embarrassed to look Spike in the eye when he said this, “you probably should have said it before you took your clothes off, ‘cause my brain shorted out somewhere around the point where you unzipped your jeans. But I think I’ve got it this time.”

Spike licked his lips, and smirked at Xander as if to say, ‘yeah, I know I’m sexy.’ “Good. Because I’m really looking forward to watching Angelus get his arse kicked.”

“It’s just that I’ve never… I mean, this is my first time.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that in front of the sexiest man who’d ever wanted to have sex with Xander. The _only_ man who’d ever wanted to have sex with Xander. He was so embarrassed.

Surprisingly enough, Spike didn’t laugh. He stretched out alongside Xander again, pulling him down, so they were both lying on the bed facing each other. “Yeah? You’ve never been with a man before?”

“I’ve never been with anything but my right hand before,” he waved the fingers at Spike, “so this is all totally new to me, and I’m kinda close to freaking out…”

“Hey, no need for that.” 

Spike’s hand slid along Xander’s arm, up to his shoulder and back down to his wrist, sending cascades of shivery heat through Xander’s body. His cock, which had started to take notice that sex was not being had, and had started to droop, jumped back to attention.

“I’ll take care of you. I’m good at that.” 

Spike’s hand moved up onto his shoulder, to his neck, then down, his fingertips trailing across Xander’s nipple - the one that didn’t hurt - and down the center of his chest, before reversing and going back up again. Xander was trying hard not to breathe, ‘cause he didn’t want to disturb Spike’s hand. He eventually ran out of breath, and sucked in a bunch of air at once, but Spike’s hand just rode with the rise and fall of his chest.

On his way back up, Spike curled his hand around to the back of Xander’s neck, pulling his face over toward Spike’s. 

“Here, let me…” He brushed his lips across Xander’s. “Yeah, like that.” 

Then his lips came back firmer, pressing against Xander’s. When he felt the wet tip of Spike’s tongue sliding across his lips, Xander opened his mouth, and let Spike’s tongue slip inside. With Cordelia, their kisses were rushed and frantic, with hot breath and greedy hands, and tongues that fought for control. This kiss was so different. Spike’s tongue took control of the kiss fairly early on, but he kept the pace slow and sensual, and he wouldn’t let Xander rush it. 

When they broke apart, Xander gasped for breath. Not simply because Spike had kissed him breathless, which was true, but mostly because he was overwhelmed by everything. Soft kisses and velvety fingers running over his skin made Xander shiver. Spike whispered against his ear, and it seemed like the words lost their meaning unless he concentrated really hard on them.

“That’s nice. You’ve done this part before, I can tell.” 

Spike ran his tongue down from Xander’s ear to his jaw, and started nipping on his neck in soft little bites that avoided the wounds that were already there. Xander was still kind of nervous about the vampire biting his neck thing. It hurt, and he had the wounds on both sides of his neck to prove it. 

Vampire – teeth – human neck – biting – hmmm… one of these things was not like the others. Even if Spike was a sexy vampire Xander did not want to be bit in the neck again, he already looked like an abused chew toy. He put his hands on Spike’s shoulders, to push him away, but somehow his fingers got lost in the amazement of the silky smoothness of Spike’s skin. How could a vampire who’d lived for over a hundred years have such supple skin? Spike felt incredible, and Xander’s hands couldn’t stop touching and stroking.

“Yeah, that’s right. See? That’s not so hard, now is it?” Spike murmured against his skin.

Well, something was hard. No, two things, cause something was poking at Xander’s stomach, and it sure as hell wasn’t Spike’s finger. He had one last spasm of horror over the fact that he was about to have sex with an evil fiend of the night with big fangy teeth, then Xander let it all go. To hell with it. He was a teenage boy. If he was going to have sex with Spike, he was going to enjoy every single minute of it. 

Spike nibbled on Xander’s nipple, then smoothed the tiny bites away with his lips and tongue. Xander arched his back to get more of the sensation, and Spike chuckled, and sucked harder, forcing a surprised cry out of Xander. He ran his hands through Spike’s hair, and abruptly started to laugh.

“Here now. You’re laughing at my technique?” Spike asked with a smirk.

“This was not how I expected my first time to go.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No!” His mind was filled with visions of Cordelia throwing him down next to the dirty mops, and wondered if their relationship had lasted, would they have ever made it out of a closet? “This is nice. Very nice. Not at all what I expected, is all.”

“Oi, I can do nice!”

“Yeah, I figured that out last night, watching you and Drusilla. I know it seemed like I wasn’t taking in much, what with the blood loss and the attempted concussion, but I saw you with her. You love her. Which is weird, ‘cause Giles said vamps couldn’t love, and I believed him, but after twenty-four hours in Vamp Central, I’m beginning to wonder about a lot of things Giles said about vampires.”

“Well, you’ll have a lot of things to tell him, when you ‘escape’, now won’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. Only not everything. There are some things that the pseudo-father figure does not need to know.”

“He’s liable to suspect. Vamps are pretty sensual creatures, what with the enhanced senses and all. There’s nothing like the feel of a woman’s hair brushing across your nipple as she kisses a line down the center of your chest. Or the feeling of a man’s cock rubbing firmly against yours as you writhe together on a bed.”

“Oh, man!” Xander clutched the base of his cock to stave off his imminent orgasm. It was really mean of Spike to force him to think things like that when he was so close to blowing his load. “Wait. Was there a point to that? I seem to recall you had a point… somewhere.”

“The Watcher. He’s likely to suspect you had sex with at least one of us. Maybe all of us.”

“All at once?” Boy, that was an image he’d remember for a long time. If it weren’t for the two crazy vamps in that equation, he might have held out for some of that action.

“Could be. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.” 

“Oh, wow.” How could he say things like that so casually? Doesn’t he know he’s dealing with a hormonal teenager, here?

“Nothing like the feel of a man’s strong arms holding you down while he kisses your breath away.”

“But…” Spike stole his breath away, just like he said, and Xander got lost in the kiss, until he started to get dizzy, and had to pull back. “But you don’t have to breathe.” 

“Do if I want to talk. Or smell. Can’t scent anything if I don’t breathe.”

“Oh, right.” He’d been stroking the back of Spike’s neck, and it seemed funny to do that while carrying on a conversation, but he liked it, and more importantly, Spike moved his head to give Xander more room, which in Xander’s book meant that he liked it too, so he kept on doing it as he spoke. “Kind of defeats the whole purpose of not needing to breathe, doesn’t it?”

“Not really. I could walk all the way to Hawaii, if I wanted to. Just have to watch out for sharks.” 

Now that was a strange image, and it made Xander laugh. 

“More important, no need to stop for breath when you’ve got your mouth full of some guy’s todger.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” He’d never heard the word todger before, but he was pretty sure he knew what Spike was talking about. He was glad he was still holding onto his cock, ‘cause a spasm of intense pleasure shot through him. “Don’t say things like that. I almost came!”

Spike’s wicked laugh was almost enough to make him come all by itself. Spike was sex personified. His picture belonged in the dictionary next to the phrase spontaneous orgasm. 

“You’d probably last longer for the main event if you took the edge off.”

“Took the edge off…” It took a moment for that phrase to register. “You want me to jerk off?”

“No need for that.” Spike’s grin was even more wicked than his laugh. “I’ll take care of it.”

Spike smoothed his hand down Xander’s belly, and grabbed Xander’s cock, right above the place Xander was holding on for dear life. He was torn – should he let go? He couldn’t even enjoy the fact that someone other than him had his hand on Xander’s cock due to the fact that he knew he was going to blow as soon as he let go. He grit his teeth, his eyes clenched closed as he struggled to hold on. 

“Oh, that close, huh? Well, that would be no fun at all.” 

Spike slipped his hand under Xander’s and squeezed tight, then out of nowhere, he changed the subject.

“So, you’re sure those tranqs won’t hurt my Dru?” 

_“Huh?”_ He couldn’t stop his eyelids from blinking; the question came from so far out in left field that Xander couldn’t connect it to his current reality.

“A vamp is pretty powerful, moreso as we age, and she’s close to a century and a half, are you sure the tranquillizers will even work on her?” Spike had one hand propped under his head, his arm bent at the elbow. He spoke casually, as if he held onto sixteen year old boy’s cocks while they talked business every day.

It was all beyond his current level of comprehension. “I… Ummm… Yeah. I…I…I think so,” he stuttered. He forced his brain to jumpstart, because he badly needed to focus on something other than the ache in his cock. “We…we used one on Oz and he’s a werewolf.”

Spike’s calculating eyes studied Xander closely. “He another teenager, like you? Is he a big guy?”

Xander saw where he was going with his questions now. “He’s a year older, but he’s a lot shorter than me. You think we might need more tranquilizer in the darts? I’ll make sure they load more than one, just in case.”

He seemed to approve of that idea. “If the Slayer is fighting her Daddy at the time, Dru’s adrenaline will be high. It might take more than one to keep her down.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure they know.” Even though he was calming down, which was obviously what Spike had planned, it felt bizarre talking about tranquilizer darts while a guy held onto his cock.

“You won’t be there?” Spike seemed surprised.

“I don’t know. They might think that I’ve been seduced to the dark side of the force or something, and want me to stay out of it, just in case. Can vamps really do that? Hypnotize a guy or something? Cause I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it done. I haven’t worked with Buffy for that long, though. Maybe I just haven’t run into it.” 

“It’s called a thrall.” Spike shrugged one naked shoulder. “Not my cup of tea. Dru can do it. You need to have an affinity for magic for that sort of thing.” 

“Huh.” Well that meant that Spike hadn’t done anything weird to get him into bed. Like he’d need to. Xander was a teenage boy, he could get turned on by socks.

“I’d rather you were there,” Spike said.

That came as a surprise. “Why?”

“I haven’t known you long, but I think you’re the honest type. I think you’d stand behind your word. That’s why I’m willing to let you go when we get the chance. Watchers, on the other hand, are known to be devious and underhanded.”

“Really?” That came as a surprise; he thought of Giles as the upstanding, leadership kind of guy.

“They’ll do anything to protect their Slayer. Doesn’t matter if it’s legal or sportsmanlike. A Watcher’s Slayer is always going to be his first concern.”

“Huh. I never thought of that.” 

“Makes sense, though, don’t it? As one of this Slayer’s little buddies, you should keep that in mind. You’ll never be as important to him as she is.”

Spike’s words sent Xander reeling. He’d never doubted Giles before, but now, Xander was always going to question his decisions. Spike had moved Xander’s whole world two feet to the left, and he hadn’t even had to let go of Xander’s cock to do it. 

“That’s why I’d like you there. Make sure the Watcher is good for his word.” 

It was strange when a vampire could bring reality back into focus for him. “You think I’m trustworthy?”

Spike’s slow, sensual smile did strange things to his insides. “I’m a good judge of character.”

He loosened his hold on Xander’s cock and started to stroke. It felt good. No, it felt better than good, and Xander moaned and squirmed, wanting more. 

“Thanks,” he gasped, not sure if he was thanking Spike for his trust in Xander, or his firm hand on Xander’s cock, but it was heartfelt, no matter which interpretation Spike chose.

Spike kissed him again, and Xander hoped that the conversation portion of this entire bizarre experience had drawn to an end, ‘cause he’d much rather concentrate on the hand stroking his cock. Spike’s thumb rubbed over the head, and he arched his back as he gasped in pleasure.

“There now. That’s more like it.” 

How about that, Spike was left handed. Either that or he was ambidextrous, ‘cause his left hand was more talented than Xander’s right, and he had years of experience jerking off, so that was saying a lot. Of course, Spike had been around for a long time, so he’d surely had occasion to jerk off, himself, even if he had been in a very long-term relationship. Guys were just like that. He supposed it didn’t really matter, Spike was simply talented.

Xander watched curiously as Spike slid down the bed without his hand losing contact with Xander’s flesh, which was an amazing feat. He pushed Xander over until he was on his back, and said, “If this is a day for firsts, you need to experience this.” 

Xander screamed as his cock was surrounded with wet suction. Spike was sucking Xander’s cock! He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was dizzy. Maybe he should try breathing. It just didn’t seem right to do something so casual as that while Spike was sucking his cock.

Surprised that he’d survived the experience without coming, Xander closed his eyes, to appreciate Spike’s technique. It could be argued that since Xander had never had a blowjob before, he couldn’t be a good judge, but despite the fact that Spike was his first, Xander was convinced that Spike won first prize. Perfect tens, all across the board. Maybe even a couple of elevens. 

One of Spike’s hands joined in on the bliss, and started rolling Xander’s balls gently. He’d thought he couldn’t get any higher, but he was wrong. His hips bucked spontaneously, trying to get farther into that glorious mouth, but they didn’t get far, since Spike had his arm across Xander’s pelvis, holding him down. That was a smart move, ‘cause there was no way he could stop bucking his hips, he had no control at this point. 

His arms were flailing wildly against the sheets, his feet curling and uncurling in time with the up and down movements of Spike’s head. If Spike’s body wasn’t currently lying across his legs, Xander was sure they’d be wrapped around Spike’s head. His mouth was open in a single, long, very unflattering vowel sound that ranged in pitch from a guttural growl to a high-pitched squeal, depending on what Spike did with his tongue. He was sure Spike would have been laughing at him if his mouth hadn’t been full. At this moment, he fully appreciated the fact that Spike didn’t talk with his mouth full.

One of Spike’s fingers pressed against that slick bit of skin between his balls and his asshole, and the pressure made sparks fly behind Xander’s eyelids as his come erupted out of him like a volcano, sweeping away every last thought in Xander’s over stimulated mind.

Xander was fairly certain that he hadn’t passed out, but he wouldn’t place bets on it. There was a sharp stinging sensation in his soft, inner thigh, and there was a sucking noise that he was certain was not related to his currently blissed-out cock. When he managed to lift his head long enough to look down, Spike had his face buried in Xander’s leg, his sharp, fangy vampire teeth planted firmly in his thigh. 

He knew he should be upset at this, but for some reason, he couldn’t seem to raise more than an indignant, “Hey!” He tried to move, but his body was still blissed-out - or was that _again_ \- because the sharp sting had faded to a dull ache, surrounded by wave after wave of hot arousal. It was the single most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. 

To think that just a few minutes ago, Spike’s blowjob had claimed that spot. It was complaining bitterly about being bumped down to second, but the evidence was staring him in the face. His cock, which until a moment ago had been lying on his belly contentedly, had amazingly come back to life, and was staging the fastest turnaround that Xander had ever experienced. And he was a teenaged boy. That was quite a feat.

“Holy Mother of God. Spike!” 

He didn’t answer, he just kept on sucking rhythmically, and Xander’s hips rolled as best they could with a vamp holding him down. He wondered how long it would take before he passed out from the blood loss. He guessed that Spike had lied after all, since he was obviously going to die. His head fell back to the pillow as he moaned. But what a way to go.

At least he could appreciate the sensations as he went. This was nothing like the feeding bites Angelus and Drusilla had left on his neck. Those hurt like hell. This bite stung a little, but the erotic pleasure more than made up for it. Xander shivered, moaning as he twisted in Spike’s grip. 

Spike’s finger was doing something weird to his asshole, going in and out in the same rhythm as his sucking. It felt really strange, but it wasn’t painful at all, even a minute later when he put more fingers in. It was odd to have someone pushing his fingers in and out of Xander’s ass, but he kinda liked it, as bizarre as that seemed. It made him feel decadent, and kinky. Maybe it was just the blood loss. As a matter of fact, Spike had been sucking at his thigh for a long time, fingers pumping like he was having sex…

Oh, right! It finally registered in his brain that Spike was getting him ready for the sex! He’d read about that in one of the few gay magazines he’d bought furtively, in the wrong part of town, so no one would know. He wasn’t really old enough, but the guy behind the counter hadn’t asked for ID, so he took his porn and left before someone else showed up. 

So if Spike was going to have sex with him, he wasn’t planning to kill him. But the bite – the one that was making it so difficult to think – was still happening. Spike was still sucking gently on Xander’s leg, pulling the blood out in pulses that matched his heartbeat. The same heartbeat which had remained pretty darn steady despite the fact that a creature of the night was draining him. Or not. He finally relaxed back into the sensual pull of pleasure as he figured it out. This was the claiming bite Spike had talked about. 

He was Spike’s now, and Angelus couldn’t have him. 

Spike pulled his fangs out of Xander’s flesh, licking the wounds and making Xander squirm. “That’s better. You got all tense on me there for a while,” he said.

“I thought you were draining me. I kinda panicked.”

“Well, you figured it out all right.” With one last lick, Spike pulled away from Xander’s thigh and looked up at him. “Hand me that pillow, would you?”

Xander blinked, trying to focus on something other than the fingers still pumping in and out of his ass long enough to find a pillow. His arm flopped over to the side, and he grabbed the pillow and kind of fumbled it in Spike’s direction. Spike smirked at him as he advertised his lack of coordination. Hopefully he realized it was Spike’s fault. He’d turned into Blunder Boy as soon as Spike had touched his cock, and this was the best he could manage.

Spike pulled his fingers out of Xander, and had the pillow under his ass before he could even figure out what was happening. That demon strength came in handy sometimes. Spike practically crawled up Xander’s body, his hard cock rubbing across his balls and up to slide wetly across Xander cock. He shivered. He liked that, so he pumped his hips to make their cocks move against each other again. 

“You like that, huh?” Spike whispered against his lips, “Well we can do more of that later, ‘cause I’m going to fuck you, now.”

They kissed for a long time, and Xander hardly noticed when Spike pulled Xander’s legs up and told him to wrap them around his waist. Then there was something larger than a finger pressing up against his asshole, but before he could panic about it, Spike was inside him. Xander gasped in surprise. It was big, and although it didn’t really hurt, not like the backhand Angel had given him, he didn’t like it as well as he had the fingers. 

Then Spike pulled out most of the way, and pushed back in again. Okay, that wasn’t bad. He liked the feeling, and he really liked the way Spike was all careful of him, making sure he kept his weight off Xander’s chest, and moving slowly enough that Xander could have said stop if he’d wanted to. Cause Spike had told him that earlier, before they started. He’d always stop if it hurt. But it didn’t. 

He moved his hips, and Spike moaned, and kissed him as he slid out and back in again, and yeah, Xander was getting the hang of this. He liked it, not loved it or anything, but it wasn’t bad, once you got started. Then Spike shifted and stroked, and shifted and stroked again, and bam! Sparks crackled through his body like lightning traveled, speeding in all directions at once.

Xander shouted, “Spike!” and Spike laughed in his ear. 

“There you are,” he whispered in Xander’s ear. “That little pleasure button is called the prostate.”

Xander couldn’t stop laughing, ‘cause he didn’t care what it was, as long as Spike remembered where it lived. He threw his head back against the pillow as Spike started to move faster, lost in the pleasure Spike was producing.

“Oh, god, oh god, oh god!”

He couldn’t stop, it felt so good. He didn’t remember grabbing Spike’s shoulders, but he obviously he had at some point. He could feel Spike trembling all over, and he was gasping for air that technically he didn’t need. That’s when he realized that Spike was still an invalid. “You okay?” 

“We may have to rush this along. Not what I had in mind, but I can’t keep up this position much longer.” 

“We could do something else.” He didn’t really want to, because he liked this just fine, but the sex wouldn’t work without one half of the equation. “We could just…” He didn’t know what else they could do.

Spike stopped, buried inside Xander, and said, “Move your legs down to the sides, and hold on tight.”

He dropped his legs down to the mattress, but before Xander could ask what he had in mind, Spike had flipped them over, so Xander was sitting on Spike’s lap. He grabbed Spike’s shoulders, trying to find his balance, then he sat back, and realized that Spike’s cock felt deeper inside him from this position. Whoa.

He looked down at Spike, who was grinning up at him.

“You think you can ride me?”

Xander laughed. “Like in the rodeo!”

“Well, come on, Cowboy. Do your best.”

“Cowboy!” He snorted, he was laughing so hard. “What does that make you? The cow?”

“Hey, I’m a bull, not some milk cow! You feel that?” he asked as he shifted his hips, and nudged Xander’s prostate, causing him to yelp, and grab Spike’s shoulders. “Hold on for the ride,” Spike warned him.

Xander was still giggling, and he could tell that Spike was having trouble hiding his own laughter, Xander could see it in his eyes. Spike put his hands on Xander’s hips, and started directing him, showing him how to roll his hips. His thigh muscles trembled as he concentrated on the way he had to move to get the best angle, and brush Spike’s cock across his prostate. Up and down weren’t the only directions you could go, and Spike showed him all the tricks, until he was soaring, lost in the way their bodies moved together, the sensual grind and the guttural, ragged cry.

He wasn’t sure when it changed from their slower, leisurely pace, but at some point, Xander felt a fierce, hungry heat growing inside him, and their pace changed to accommodate it. Spike felt it too. He was breathing faster, practically gasping, and he urged Xander on, his voice hoarse, and almost growly. He guided Xander with his hands on his hips, and the occasional word of instruction, but his whispered words of pleasured encouragement, and sensual enjoyment had Xander writhing and needy, begging for more. 

Spike had refused to let Xander touch his cock since they’d rolled over, no matter how much he begged. By the time Spike let go of Xander’s hip, and took a firm grasp on his cock, Xander was more than ready to come. 

“Oh, God, please!”

“No gods here, love, so I guess a horny vampire will have to do,” he teased, but Xander was far beyond any ability to appreciate humor, so he ignored Spike’s words in favor of his own. 

“Yes. I need… Oh. Yeah, that’s it. Oh, oh!” 

When he came, it was incredible, with sparks shooting behind his eyelids. He barely remembered to hang on to Spike’s shoulders to avoid falling on him and breaking their heads open. He was positive he didn’t pass out this time, ‘cause he felt it when Spike came, his hips pistoning, slapping up against Xander’s ass at a rate that a human could never accomplish from this position. He felt the awe at that thought, right before he felt Spike’s jagged freeze, shouting as he jerked.

“Fucking yes!” 

His powerful gasps of breath made Xander grin, but since he seemed to be slipping off to the side of Spike at the time, he wasn’t sure Spike noticed. He thought he felt someone cleaning him off, but he was too tired to open his eyes, and find out if that was really happening; he sort of figured it wasn’t real. Spike didn’t seem to be the type for polite gestures. That was the last thing he remembered.

Xander wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but it was quiet outside Spike’s door. Not that it was usually loud here - well, at least when Angelus wasn’t around. He had to slip out from under Spike’s leg to get up. He hated to wake him, but he had to pee. He slipped off the bed, and looked back to see Spike staring at him, eyes glinting in the faint light coming out from the bathroom.

“Where you going?” he asked, his voice low and scratchy. Yum, that was one sexy sleepy voice.

“Just to the bathroom. Nature calls.”

“Don’t leave the suite.” 

“Not a problem,” Xander said earnestly. He had no interest in getting close to any of the vamps in this factory. Well, except Spike. He wouldn’t mind getting close to him again, real soon. Tonight even.

Spike stretched like a big cat, the sheet riding down low, and a shiver ran the length of Xander's spine at the sight of all that soft, creamy flesh. Spike took a deep breath, eyes half-lidded as he smirked at what must have been a healthy hit of human pheromones. Xander blushed, and rushed to the bathroom, followed by the sound of Spike’s low chuckle. 

What did Spike expect? He was a teenager. If he didn’t have someone really sexy waiting for him in the next room, he’d probably have thought seriously about jerking off before he went back to bed, despite what the two had done earlier. He had to concentrate on peeing, because it was hard to do with a hard-on, and he wanted to get back out to Spike before he fell back asleep. Thinking about the way he’d ridden Spike’s cock got him all fluttery and his hands shook a little as he washed them. 

Xander knew that he liked this too much, and he knew that was a bad idea. The longer he stayed here, the greater the chances that he’d wind up dead, or undead. He didn’t want either. But he wanted Spike. The problem was he couldn’t have one without the other. It didn’t matter, anyway. Spike was going to get Xander out of the factory soon, and he’d make a deal with Buffy, and take Dru away with him. That was just the way it had to be. 

He needed to stop thinking of Spike as more than what he was, and just take advantage of the experience being offered to him. How many sixteen year old guys had someone like Spike in their beds? Spike was a good teacher, and Xander seemed to learn fast when he had hands-on training. Heh heh. He’d have to soak up all the cool vibes Spike put off, and learn Spike’s seduction techniques, ‘cause the guy had mad skills. 

It would have been hard to go back to the closet with Cordelia after this. He’d thought he’d been lucky when Cordelia started dragging him into closets. He was wrong. This was luck. Spike had ruined him for Cordelia. Well, if Cordelia even wanted him these days. To hell with her. He had Spike for probably a day or two, and he wasn’t going to waste it thinking about things he couldn’t have. He’d be the one with the experience when he left here. He’d be seducing girls _and_ guys right and left when he got back. Who needed a love spell?

Spike was leaning up against the backboard when Xander came out. 

“Thought you got lost in there. I was about to come rescue you.”

Blushing, Xander ducked his head embarrassed. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“Oh, bad news, mate. The bathroom is a bad place to make decisions or plans. Trust me, I know.”

Crawling up on the bed, Xander grinned self-consciously. “I decided to stop worrying about what others think of me, and do what I wanted for a change.”

“Yeah? And what do you want to do, Kitten?” Was the hint of caution in Spike’s voice his imagination? It was hard to tell. 

He stretched out across the bed, where the sheet made a bulge that Xander was pretty sure was Spike’s prick. “I want to do this.” 

He pulled the sheet down, exposing Spike’s uncircumcised cock. Oh, foreskin. He didn’t see many of those around Sunnydale high. Not like he looked at guy’s pricks in the locker rooms or anything. Well, not too often. He reached out and ran his finger up the topside of it, and across the tip. There was a little bit of moisture there. Huh. He guessed Spike had been thinking, too. He licked the tip of his finger. Sour, and a little bitter, but not anymore so than a lemon. And he loved lemonade. Spike groaned, and Xander looked up, surprised.

“Oh, please. Don’t let me stop you,” Spike said eagerly.

Oh, he liked it. Cool. Xander reached out his finger again.

* * *

“Honey, we’re home!” 

The shouted cry brought Spike’s eyes wide in a moment, and he took a quick breath. Well, here it came. He extracted himself from Bronco Bill. The boy’s arms and legs had found their way around his, and he worked slowly, not wanting to wake him. Best to let the boy sleep if he could. This could turn messy, and Spike would rather keep him out of the way, and out of trouble. He pulled the covers up over Xander’s shoulders. Who had ever heard of a name like Xander? Hopefully he’d sleep. 

“Oh, honey!”

He pulled his worn and tattered jeans up as far as he could before standing and pulling them up the rest of the way. The three steps to the wheelchair were a little weak, but that was his own fault. He shouldn’t have pushed the sex; that position had done a number on his back, and his muscles ached. He’d have to be sure and stick to the cowboy position for now. Not a problem. Seeing Xander kneeling above him, back arched as he worked himself on Spike’s prick was one of the best things that had happened to him since he landed in this god-awful wheelchair.

Spike grabbed his shirt, and pulled it on. He needed a snack before he dealt with Angelus. If he was careful not to get too close, he might could make it to the larder before Angelus caught Xander’s scent all over him. He was looking forward to getting this over with and settling down for a day of lazing in bed with the boy. Maybe he could teach Bronco Bill how to give a blowjob today. That was a lazy day’s work. Then Spike could get some real sleep, instead of listening for Angelus to come home. 

“Spike! Here boy, here boy!”

Spike sighed. Angelus was in a mood. He’d best use up some of his reserve so he could get the confrontation over with without too much fuss. He pulled a bag out of the freezer of his fridge, and stuck it in the tiny microwave to heat. He’d turned an electrician to get this place hooked up to the grid. They were careful not to drain off too much electricity, just enough for hot showers, and the microwave to heat his tea, and the occasional bag of blood. It wasn’t the same as fresh, but with Angelus shouting outside his door, if he wanted to be at top form, he’d best take his snack now.

“William! Where the hell are you?”

He recognized Angelus’ game. The bastard could easily come to Spike’s door if he wanted to speak to him, instead of making a fuss and attracting the attention of everyone in the place. But this way the minions began to recognize that their master bowed to another, which would weaken ties already strained by the fact that Spike couldn’t keep order the way he should while in this chair. The way Dru fawned over Angelus made it obvious that Spike couldn’t keep her faithful, and that weakened the minion’s respect for him even more. True, familial ties within a clan were respected, but this amount of disrespect should be addressed, and he couldn’t do that from a wheelchair.

The only reason he’d had no challengers yet was that Drusilla frightened them all, and she had no compunctions about throwing around her magic when she needed obedience. But she was too unpredictable, even though she was no longer weak, and could fight well when she needed to. If she took a fit when they were challenging her, she’d be dust, and that frightened him more than anything else that could happen. He couldn’t afford to drive off an ally like Angelus, even though it was obvious that Angelus was angling for Spike’s place as Master of Sunnydale. 

“William!” 

He drank the blood lukewarm, gulping it down, hoping Angelus’ bellowing wouldn’t wake the boy. It would be best if this particular power play was over and done with before Xander even knew it had happened. Well, it had to be done, and he’d have to do the best he could while making it look as if he was making no effort at all. He grit his teeth, and went to face the most loved, and the most hated members of his family. Sometimes, he wasn’t even sure which one was which.

Angelus was sitting in Spike’s place at the head of the table, his legs spread wide, one boot on the wooden surface. 

“There you are! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you forever.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was at your beck and call,” he said casually. He aimed for the small sitting area where he’d left his book, avoiding the table altogether. “Last time I checked, this was _my_ home.” He motioned for Lucius, who was waiting at the entrance to the room. It looked as if he had some business to attend to. He slipped the book to the side of his wheelchair, and settled himself in the sitting area. He wouldn’t get into that kind of game with Angelus, especially not in front of the minions.

Lucius bent over and spoke to him quietly. They both knew Angelus could hear them, but that wasn’t the point. Lucius was making it clear that in his estimation, the head of the household was the only one to which he need go. He knew he’d done well when he’d chosen Lucius, the man was paying Spike back for the trust he’d placed in him. It wouldn’t be forgotten.

“The Slayer was at Willie’s today, Master. She was looking for her friend, Xander Harris.”

“Good work, Lucius.” Well, that was interesting. He’d gotten the idea from Xander that his friends would assume he was in hiding until, as he put it, ‘the angry wears off.’ “Did it seem she had any ideas of where to look for him?”

“No sir, I don’t believe she has connected his disappearance with Mistress Drusilla, or Master Angelus.”

Spike nodded, satisfied with that for now. “Keep your eyes out for any increase in her activity around the area; I don’t like the idea of her associating her friend with Drusilla. Any talk of that, and I want to know immediately.”

“Of course, Master.” 

Spike was aware of Angelus’ approach from directly behind his chair. He motioned Lucius off, hoping to keep the confrontation between two Masters, and not involve the minions. 

“What the hell did you do?” Angelus’ angry voice cried.

There it was. He steeled himself for Angelus’ anger. He had no idea what form it would take. Since he’d come back from under the soul, Angelus was unpredictable in so many ways. His fingers scrabbled at Spike’s coat, and Spike moved quickly, pulling away and executing a fast turn to get face to face with him.

Angelus frowned heavily. He obviously hadn’t expected Spike to be so fast in his chair, but he’d been practicing evasive maneuvers since he’d first found himself in a wheelchair months ago.

“I do what I want to do. Why do you ask?” 

He charged at Spike again, and Spike took the offensive, ramming his wheels into Angelus’ shins before retreating once again. 

“Hey!” Angelus skipped back out of Spike’s range. “Harris was mine! But his scent is all over you! You took what was mine!”

“Calm down, you’re acting like a child. I didn’t touch anything that didn’t belong to me.” Spike readied his straight razor in his pocket. He wouldn’t use it unless he had to, but it was there in case he needed it. He had no chance for it, though, because Drusilla chose that moment to skip between the two of them.

“No, no, no!” she sing-songed. One hand flat on Angelus’ chest and one on Spike’s. “There will be no fighting!” 

Angelus’ face was red, and he pressed against Dru’s hand, pushing her back toward Spike. If he pushed her into Spike’s chair, he couldn’t maneuver well enough to escape Angelus for long. He rolled backwards to avoid that, and shouted loudly enough for all the minions in the area to hear. He had no doubt that they were all watching this confrontation closely. 

“Are you saying a Sire’s gift is meaningless to you? You gave him to me!”

Angelus turned suddenly and stormed off, pacing back and forth. “I just wanted you to watch him for me. I told you yesterday what I had in mind!”

“No, you gave him to me months ago, at the high school. Don’t you remember?”

He stopped mid-pace, and turned to Spike puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The night before St. Vigeous. You remember. You gave him to me, and it seemed downright disrespectful not to accept your gift.”

Spike’s argument was full of holes, but the minions wouldn’t know that, and since Angelus was angling to take over Spike’s court, backstabbing Spike by betraying his trust in that way meant his word to his minions would mean nothing. There weren’t too many things that vampires wouldn’t do, but betraying one’s family was one of them. They could scrabble for power inside their Clan, that was expected, but for Spike to betray his Sire, or for Angelus to turn his back on his Childe were not acceptable behaviors.

He was counting on Angelus to come to the same conclusion. He already knew the minions had, he could see it in their calculating stare. He’d never know if Angelus would have backed down, for Drusilla took that moment to start screaming and moaning, her hands clutching her hair. Angelus guided her to the sofa, and Spike drew close, murmuring softly, and doing his best to keep her from pulling out her hair. It was soon over, but her news was worrisome. 

“We must leave, Daddy, you and I. You’ll be safe from the wicked Gypsy girl in the home of the Jesus in the clouds.” Her eyes were wild, and Spike tried to get her to lie down and rest for a while. “No! We have to go now, before she picks the words out of the spell that will turn you back into a meek, little rabbit, drinking your blood from bags, sucking out the life from rats and cows.”

Angelus sat down heavily on the sofa, horror in his eyes. “No! I won’t go back to that. I’ll never go back to that!” 

“What Gypsy girl, lovely? Someone is going to set the curse back on Angelus?” Spike had no special concern about Angelus. It might even solve a few of his problems if Angelus were to come under the curse’s influence again. But he couldn’t contain his horror that someone might do the same to others, if they knew how it was done. 

Dru struggled to sit up, and Angelus helped her. She took his hand, holding it in both of hers. “We’ll have to move quickly if we want to catch the mean school teacher before the spell is complete.”

* * *

When Spike came back into his bedroom, Xander felt a huge relief. He’d thought seriously about locking the door, but in a building full of vampires, that wasn’t likely to help much, or maybe _any_. He stood, jerking at his new clothes, everything seemed too tight, and he longed for his loose fitting jeans. He also really wished he had socks and shoes. He felt totally naked with his feet bare. Go figure. 

Spike looked worried, and that wasn’t a good thing.

“I heard lots of shouting. What’s going on?” He sat back down on the edge of the bed when Spike motioned to it. 

“You need to leave soon.” Xander felt a pit open up in his stomach. Spike was getting rid of him already?

“What? Why?” Spike stared at the floor, or was he looking at Xander’s feet? He fought back his impulse to fill the silence with talk, no matter what it was about. 

“Did you know that the computer science teacher was from the Gypsy tribe that cursed Angelus?” 

Spike’s question came out of left field, but it hit Xander hard. He felt all the blood drain out of his face. If they knew that, she was in grave danger. And they may all be mad at her right now, but that wasn’t a killing offense. 

“You knew, then.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, but it filled Xander with dread, anyway. 

They hadn’t asked him about her, so Xander hadn’t lied. He simply hadn’t mentioned it. It obviously didn’t matter, since they knew already. “Yeah, she was in Buffy’s dream, and when Buffy confronted her, she admitted to it.”

“She’s planning on restoring Angelus’ soul. They’re determined not to let her do it.” 

He looked up in surprise. He could have sworn she said the curse was lost.

“Angelus plans to kill her tonight. You’re her only chance of survival.”

“Who me?” Something didn’t make sense to Xander, here. “Wait, you want her to succeed?”

“I wouldn’t mind it.” Spike shrugged. “He’s getting on my last nerve. He came back all wrong. But I won’t let Drusilla get hurt. A soul would kill her. I won’t let that happen.”

“You think they’d go around souling vamps at random? They wouldn’t do that.” He had to laugh at that thought. He was surprised Spike would even consider it. 

He looked up into Xander’s eyes, as if searching for the truth. “They wouldn’t?”

Xander took a breath, and thought seriously about it. “I don’t think so.”

“You have to stop them from trying. Tell them it was the condition of my releasing you. You don’t have to tell them our plans from before. Just tell them they can’t soul me or Drusilla. I need to be sane to keep Dru safe.”

“You’re staying here?” That was surprising, and it gave Xander hope. Maybe he could still see Spike, if he was staying in Sunnydale. “I thought I heard Angelus say you were leaving.”

“ _They_ are. I can’t go anywhere without slowing them down. They’re better off without me.”

As much as he didn’t want Spike to leave, that thought ticked Xander off. “That was Angelus’ idea, wasn’t it?”

Spike smiled. “Partly. I had the same idea in mind. I’m not fighting it, anyroad. Drusilla says she needs spell parts she can only get in Rio de Janeiro. She can make it so the soul won’t stick to the body.”

“Like Teflon for the soul?”

“Or _against_ a soul. But traveling is difficult on vamps who can’t afford to be seen. I can’t make the trip just yet. I’ll have to meet them there when I’m healed.”

“That will be sooner than they expect, won’t it?” It would be too much for things to go Xander’s way. He never got what he wanted. Not that he wanted a vampire. Not really. But – well, there just weren’t many people that wanted _him_. It had been nice when it was just the two of them.

“Yeah.” He grinned at the face Xander made. “But they don’t need to know that.”

Xander bit his lip, trying to hold the question back, but he knew he had to know. “Will I see you again?”

“You’re better off without me, Xander. You got your life, and I got mine. We’d just get in each other’s way.” He rolled across the room, as if putting distance between them would make this any easier. Maybe it would for Spike, but not for Xander.

“What about the claim?”

“That will fade.”

Xander’s stomach clenched at that thought. 

“It will take time, but you’ll forget about me.”

Xander blinked hard, trying to fight back tears. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You got no choice. Neither of us do.” 

His face was hard, all angles and harsh lines, like maybe he was fighting his emotions, too. But that couldn’t be right. He was the vampire. He didn’t have emotions, did he? Not the kind humans had. 

“I’m a vamp, you’re my food source,” he said firmly. “We had some fun, but it’s over now. Right?”

Well, if Spike could do it, so could Xander. He squared up his jaw, clenching his teeth. He could do this. “Right.”

“Good lad. Your boots are in that trunk. You need to get them on; it’s almost time for you to leave.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “You could have saved them a lot of trouble by just not letting me go until after Jenny was dead.” He probably shouldn’t have put that idea in Spike’s head, but it was too late to take the question back now.

“We made a deal. I don’t break my word.” He rolled to the door before turning back to Xander. “Go on. Get your boots on.”

* * *

Xander climbed the stairs to his bedroom, his shoes thumping loudly on the stair treads. He’d spent most of the summer looking behind him, wondering if maybe Spike were around somewhere, or if he’d already left for Rio. Xander wanted a chance to tell Spike that he was wrong. The bite on his thigh had never faded. All Xander had to do was touch it and he could get hard in seconds. But he hadn’t seen anything of Spike, no matter how hard he looked. For that matter, he’d hardly seen any vampires at all this summer. He wondered if that were an omen of some sort. 

Buffy had arrived home today, after spending two months in LA with her dad, and they’d gone for ice cream to celebrate the end of Xander and Willow’s lonely summer of patrolling by themselves. Giles had been back from England for a week. It looked like the gang was back together again.

He closed his bedroom door and plopped down on his bed. Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, Xander was hit with a sudden sense of something being out of place. He propped himself up on his elbows and took a close look at his room, searching for the culprit. His mom had probably been in to vacuum the floor. She did that once or twice a year. But the house usually smelled of disturbed dust for days after one of her random cleaning sprees, and he smelled not a whiff of dust bunnies in a rampage today.

Something was wrong, though. Staring around he took in the closet doors slid wide open – check. Unmade bed – check. Seven of Nine poster on the wall – check. Poorly glued model airplanes hanging from the ceiling – check. Never used guitar on the floor – check. Random crap on the bookshelves – check. Open window with a red rose on the window sill – what? He sat up fast, his eyes going back to the window. Bleached blond vampire on the roof outside his window – check. 

He swallowed hard, and went to the window. He clenched his jaw to remind him to be firm. Tell the nice vampire to go away, and…clean up your room. Oh look. A new incentive for cleaning – avoidance of the pretty vampire. Nasty! Nasty vampire, who didn’t even send him a postcard from Rio. Bastard. He didn’t want Xander, and Xander didn’t want Spike, either.

Spike was perched on the slanted roof, just outside Xander’s window. Obviously his legs were working again. He opened his window, and stared out. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Spike shrugged. Even his shrugs were cooler than Xander could ever imagine being. He was a pretty vampire. “Just thought I’d come say hi.”

Four months, three weeks and six days too late, buster. But who’s counting? “I thought you’d be in Rio by now.”

“Nah, I got a postcard from Drusilla last month. They’re in Europe somewhere. Angelus is keeping a low profile.”

“The factory has mail service?” That was an odd thought.

Spike shook his head. “She sent it through Willy’s Bar.”

“Are you going to join them?” He wasn’t sure why he asked. Like he cared. It just meant one less vampire in town.

Spike shook his head. “I thought I’d stick around here. There’s somebody I wanted to keep in touch with.”

Oh. Xander blinked. He wanted to stick around for Xander? That couldn’t be right. He didn’t care about Xander. If he had, he would have been in touch earlier. Right? “Who?”

“You.” 

Xander searched his eyes. He seemed sincere. But then, Giles had set him down after his ‘escape’ from his kidnappers and told him that vampires were notorious for lying to humans. Even the ones who said that they kept their word. But he had kept his word. Spike had let him go, and saved Ms Carpenter’s life. What more proof did Giles need? What proof was Xander looking for? He didn’t even know. 

“You said we were better off not seeing each other again.” Spike was confusing him, so he went on the offensive, because ‘the best defense was a good offense.’ He’d heard that somewhere. Maybe in the boy’s bathroom at the Bronze?

Spike ducked his head, and grinned sheepishly. “I have been known to make a mistake from time to time.”

No fair with all the pretty. It was distracting. “What does that mean?”

“I was thinking maybe you and me could catch a movie sometime. Get a bite to eat.” He shrugged again. He needed to stop doing that.

“Like a date?” Hope blossomed in his stomach. Spike wanted him. Him – Xander ‘Bronco Bill’ Harris. The thought of the time they’d spent in Spike’s big bed in the factory seared itself across yet another part of his brain. That memory was lethal, it derailed Xander every time.

“Vampire’s don’t date.” Spike’s frown didn’t seem very frown-like. It was as if he was trying to play at it, or something. Was he flirting with Xander? 

Xander couldn’t help his instantaneous grin. “Sure they don’t,” he agreed readily. 

“They don’t!”

“Uh huh.” This seemed to throw Spike off his game. Maybe he should agree with him more often.

“So?” He stared at Xander, as if it meant a lot to him that Xander agree to this, too.

Spike was a vampire, Xander reminded himself. What the hell was he doing even contemplating this? Like that was going to work. Spike wanted him. Of course he was going. But it wouldn’t do to seem too eager. The girls would not be happy if he hadn’t at least learned that lesson hanging out with them. 

“Ummm…will there be bloodletting at this restaurant?”

Spike’s grin sent tendrils of warmth up and down his spine. He hadn’t remembered exactly how freakin’ sexy this guy was. How the hell had he forgotten that? 

“No, but there might be at the movie. Depends on what we decide to see, now don’t it?”

“Do I get to pick?” he asked brightly.

Spike narrowed his eyes as he stared at Xander calculatingly. “Ummm. Maybe we should start with a meal.”

“Okay.” He’d had enough with playing hard to get. His answer was yes, yes, yes!

“Okay?” 

He’d taken the vamp by surprise. He didn’t know why. Teenage boy here. When were teenage boys not willing to have sex? And maybe he might hold out for a day or two, just to pay Spike back for making him droop around all summer, but if he had his way, they’d be having sex in the very near future. He still had a lot to learn. Like blowjobs. He’d never even gotten to pay Spike back for his spectacular blowjob! Oh, nice image. Now he had to finish the conversation before his hard-on poked a hole through his pants. Thank goodness they were baggy ones.

“Yeah. Okay. When?” He winced at the eagerness in his voice. It was official, Xander was easy. 

“Tomorrow night?”

Xander shook his head. “I’ve got patrol.” 

“Again? You patrolled tonight!”

“Have you been following me?” he asked, fighting back a smile.

Spike shrugged, yet again. He had to stop doing that. 

“Maybe.”

For some odd reason, he liked the idea that Spike had been following him around. “I guess you’re all better now.” 

"All better,” he agreed. He frowned suddenly. “But I don’t dance.

That was out of the blue. “I didn’t ask.” 

“It’s just… You dance with your little friends.”

Spike had obviously been spying on them for a while. He and Willow had been dancing a couple of weeks ago, but not since. 

“I flail. They dance.”

Even Spike’s smirk was sexy. “I wasn’t going to say.”

Xander blushed. “No dancing.”

“I appreciate that.” Was that relief he saw in Spike’s eyes?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Xander asked. 

“I thought you had patrol?”

There he went again, with the powers of confusing Xander. “Oh, right. Friday night then.”

Xander loved that smile. It was kind of private, and Xander knew it was meant just for him. “Friday.” Spike turned to go.

“Oh!” 

Spike was already moving, but he turned back to ask, “Yeah?” 

Xander felt the blush burn him from top to toe. He smiled shyly. “Thanks for the flower.”

“You’re welcome, Kitten.” He winked at Xander, then stepped off the roof and was gone. 

What an exit. “Drama queen.”

He closed the window, took the rose with him to his bed, and set it on the nightstand. He’d never gotten flowers before. Or a flower, anyway. Guess that made him the girl in this relationship. The image of Spike staring up at Xander as he writhed on Spike’s lap came back to him, and a wave of heat hit him, leaving him anxious, and horny as hell, his cock crowding even his baggy jeans.

He’d better take care of that, or he’d never get to sleep. He started changing his clothes for bed, ‘I have a date with William the Bloody!’ running over and over through his head. Vampires don’t date, my ass. With a snort, Xander climbed into bed. These were going to be the longest two days of his life.


End file.
